Experiences With Imperfect Men
by illusionallydelicious
Summary: Short experiences Liz has with her friends, ex boyfriends, or ex lovers, from the male point of view. We all know how Liz felt, time to hear another side.
1. Chapter 1

Dennis Duffy was a man of his word. And if that word was to take his best girl to a lame ass movie, that's what it would be.

Liz wasn't too hard to please, fortunately. Dennis wasn't a rich man, a clever man, or a well endowed man. Liz was content with watching TV, eating (her favorite), and the occasional foreplay, if she wasn't on the rag or too tired. Neither seemed to be happening tonight. He was getting excited.

"Oh, god," Liz said, "Dennis, are you really 'tearing up' excited to see this movie?"

"Is there any other kind of excited, dummy?" Dennis asked. In Liz's purse were two hoagies, a plate of pasta for him, and a cherry cola "to share". Liz was trying to be more open to food sharing, taking baby steps via a soda she wasn't even that into. The movie sounded a little lame in itself, but swapping fluids in a public place was good enough for Dennis.

"Yeah, my kind, where it's all bottled up in your heart where no one can take it from you." Poor Liz, emotionally sealed off from everything and everyone.

Fortunately, they made it to the movie theater with no extreme confrontations. Both Dennis and Liz were drawn to bad luck on city streets, and they didn't get along much. They walked to the ticket lady, not hand in hand. They would look gay like that.

"Welcome!" said the ticket lady. She had bad skin, but big cans. She could be hotter if she put some work into her appearance. Same with Liz; let the girls breathe for once. "How may I assist you in your movie viewing experience?"

Liz smiled. She's had some sucky jobs over the years, but writing a TV show with her hotter friend Jenna was probably the worst, so she probably felt sympathetic. Dennis hadn't seen Liz's show, but it looked awful. "Two for _Snakes on a Plane_, please," Liz demanded.

"Dummy, be a little respectful," said Dennis. Liz had a tendency to bring others down, emotionally and physically. It pissed him off a little.

"It's her job to give us the tickets," Liz said, in her uppity voice.

"That don't mean you should treat her like crap," Dennis started. He felt a lecture coursing through his veins. "Just because your job is going nowhere, and this could-be hottie's job is going nowhere, doesn't mean you have to be a bitch. Misery loves company, dummy. And what the hell kind of name for a movie is _Snakes on a Plane_? It tells you exactly what happens! It's like _Ghosts_, except there won't be much sex, and it won't catch on."

Unbeknownst to Dennis, until he ended his rant, Liz had bought just one ticket and went in herself. He turned to the ticket lady. "Why the hell didn't you tell me she went in without me.

"I tried," she said, "but you couldn't hear me and I can't yell in this thing." She paused for a minute or two. "You're holding up the line."

#

A few hours later, some unscrewing, and a few attempts of sexy positions later, Liz came into her apartment. Sitting right in front of the door, in a kitchen chair, was Dennis.

"Hello, dummy," he said, "I've been waiting for you."

"Liz jumped a little. "Oh, Dennis, it's just you. What are you doing here?" "I'm confronting you," Dennis said, "This is what people do in those movies you like so much, I thought I'd do something like that. Why did you leave me at the movies alone? I held up the line. I don't hold up lines, Liz. I start them. People start lines around me, wondering 'why is that man being beat up so much?' and I intend to say, 'because he looked at my girl the wrong way.'"

"Dennis, this is stupid," Liz said. "What could I do to make it up to you?"

"You could make me dinner?" Dennis suggested.

Liz rolled her eyes, covered by her lesbian librarian glasses. "Fine," she sighed. Dennis heard a "blurg" under her breath, but he didn't care about her poor language. Dennis got her to do something for him.

Liz and Dennis ate their cereal, the blue glow of the TV adding a glow of romance to the evening. Denns was feeling himself get excited over Liz, the way she blew on her cereal like soup, or how her eyes were mostly pointing at the TV. She knew the exact critiques to make ("if they don't give this show another season, I'm losing faith in the networks" - her classic empty threat) and could laugh, despite having no laugh track to tell her what was funny. Something about that was what made Dennis crazy about her.

"Hey," he said, "do you feel like having sex, or something?"

Liz swallowed her cereal. "After this show."

Liz kept her promise. After whatever confusing show she was watching ended, they had half naked sex for a full seven minutes. Dennis tried cuddling with Liz, but there was one thing she was standing firm on. "You're not spending the night tonight, Dennis."

"But it's cold out there," whined Dennis.

"No it's not," Liz said, "it's summer. Please leave."

Dennis sighed. "Alright. But expect me here tomorrow."

"Make sure I'm awake and home," Liz said.

"Deal!" Dennis gave her a thumbs up as he left.

It was raining. Dennis liked the rain, so long as he didn't have his merchandise on him. He took a cab home, stiffing the driver on his tip. Hell, times were tough. He walked to his place, kids making out all over. Dennis wished him and Liz were like that sometimes, but most of him decided being grown ups was for the best. He cared about Liz, but not enough to show off in public. Dumb douche kids. He walked by, flipping every couple off.

* * *

This is my first 30 Rock fic. I thought starting with Dennis a little before the show begins is a good way to start. Hope you like it :)


	2. Chapter 2

Floyd hadn't been dating Liz for long, but she was already superior to every woman he ever dated. She was a little older than most of his exes, she had a stable job, she loved eating, and she was crazier than him. Some people thought that was a deal breaker, but Floyd wanted to seem sane compared to someone.

A former alcoholic with an emotionally abusive father, Floyd was in a constant strive for acceptance. After seeking help, he decided to embrace the "straight man" persona, like people on TV. Those were never the "problem" characters. They weren't racist, or annoying, or alcoholics.

Not only did Liz get this (that might be the fault of the Alcoholics Anonymous meeting she walked in on), she accepted it and even loved it. Her adoration and childhood connection to TV (he saw pictures of how she spent her Saturday night as a teenager) made her love the "straight man" Floyd became. He really liked that about her.

So their official first date, post fireworks, post Alcoholics Anonymous, and without Pete should be fine, right?

Floyd chose to go to a pizza place. A lot of women would be disappointed to go to get pizza. Liz was not one of those women. This was a very good thing, because Floyd loved pizza. He woke up in pizza more times than he could count. You didn't have to dress to the nines to go get pizza. In fact, it was a little dickish if you did.

He didn't pick up Liz. She had to work late (something about Frank, Toofer, and Lutz taking a fart sketch too far), a good move for how to not expect much.

The waiter, or waitress (they wore hair extensions and makeup, but the tag said "Paul") came up to him. The restaurant had a friendly atmosphere, but Paul looked pretty shady in comparison to everyone else. "What would you like tonight, sir?"

Floyd shrugged. "Two colas, please. I'm meeting someone tonight. A woman. A pretty woman. But not like the hooker or Julia Roberts."

"Oh, and you're going to impress this 'non hooker' with cola?" Paul said. "Smooth move, pussy boy."

"Should I get the cola with mozzarella sticks, too?" Floyd asked. He was a little flustered, it probably effected his thinking. "Or maybe I should get Sprite?"

"Do whatever you want, honey, you're a lost cause." Paul was being kind of sassy, and looked a little familiar, somehow.

"Are you trying to look like Jenna from The Girlie Show?" Floyd asked.

"You can tell, can't you," Paul said, "I've been trying for weeks!"

"I know her! I'm dating her friend!" Floyd was getting excited.

"The frumpy, Greek one?" asked Paul. Floyd nodded. "I know both of them. I used to work for this sickly prince, they went to his party, the prince died from Champaign bubbles, now I live here and can dress as I please!"

"Ok, I know what I want, buddy," Floyd said. The thing about the prince gave him an idea. "Two extra large suicides and a plate of mozzarella sticks!"

Paul's face fell into an annoyed expression. "You're lucky you're cute, because you're pretty clueless."

This confused Floyd. "Thank you?"

Minutes after the suicides and Mozzarella sticks made their way to the table, Liz arrived. "Holy crap, Floyd! You sure know how to please a woman!" Floyd shot a "suck it" glance to Paul, who barely took notice.

Liz and Floyd ate and drank their refreshments, adding two large pizzas on top of their already full stomachs. "Do you want me to walk you home?" Floyd asked, bashfully.

"I'd like that," Liz said, "I'd like that a lot."

They walked, talking with the same rhythm as before. Laughing and admiring as they always did, until they got to Liz's door. "I'd invite you in, but Pete is still here."

"I get it," Floyd said. He kissed her on the cheek. "Good night, Liz."

Within minutes of leaving Liz's apartment complex, Floyd heard her familiar voice call out, "He left!"

"What?" Floyd called back up.

"Pete isn't in here. Come up so we can make out or something."

And Floyd did come up. He made out with Liz, he petted her hair, and they had sex.

"You were better than Dennis," Liz said, referencing her creepy ex boyfriend.

"Oh, yeah?" Floyd said. "What makes me so special?"

"Dennis didn't last as long, he wasn't as long, and," she smiled, "I'm letting you cuddle me tonight."

"Hell yeah!" Floyds wrapped his arm around Liz, careful not to knock her in the head or boob. Evidently, it wasn't pleasant for women. He asked delicate questions until he fell asleep.

"How was your dad?"

"Plesant enough, but he had a temper."

"How was your mom?"

"A little cynical, but so am I."

"Do you wish you stuck to acting?"

"Sometimes. I think I would fail. I always thought I would fail. I mean, I quit so I guess I did fail."

"I bet you were great."

"I bet you would change your mind."

Liz's breathing slowed. She fell asleep in Floyd's arms. This had never happened to him before. He was relieved he peed before crawling into bed with her.

He woke up several hours later, holding Liz, sorry to go. It was time to go to work. He left a sticky note, kissed her on the forehead, and left.

* * *

I find it abnormal that I'm not updating as much.

I don't find it abnormal that I'm 16, my eyes are bloodshot behind my glasses, it's 3am, and I have a glass of apple juice next to me as I type that looks like scotch.

I think I'm giving Liz some friendship next chapter


	3. Chapter 3

"Yes, Hornburger!"

Pete Hornburger was alone with Liz at the writers table, eating the Girl Scout cookies his daughter was selling. Liz was their best buyer and was sometimes willing to share if they were working late. This was one of those evenings. His statement of excitement was caused by Liz handing him a box of Thin Mints. "Don't tell the others," she commanded.

"Why the hell would I d that? If they knew their was privilege to really working, they would do it."

"And we wouldn't get blamed for writing this crap!" Liz had a point: the other writers came up with the ideas, Liz and Pete were the ones that sketched it out to the best of their abilities.

When he thought about it, Liz was Pete's only real friend. His wife didn't care anymore and his old friends used him. Liz and Pete needed each other equally, both viewing the other only as a friend. At least, that's what Pete says.

Fine, Liz is cute, but he's married. But his wife cheats, clearly. But Pete would cheat on him, too. He was balding and potbellied and threatened by his disturbing ass kids, who bite and fight. Above all, he was a boring, kind man. The good guy does get the girl, but it's not what he wanted after all.

He didn't feel like thinking his slightly drunk, depressing thoughts. He wondered if Liz had an antidepressant or something. A pill, cocaine, whatever worked. "So, uh, Jack," Pete started, "he's out of the hospital now, right?"

Liz nodded. "He'll be back next week. Maybe more time, but probably not." She took her hair out of her ponytail and grabbed another Girl Scout cookie, canceling out her sensuality with functionality. "He already had sex with his nurse, and now she's 'too needy' or something."

Pete made his voice gruff, speaking barely above a whisper. "I'll be back at work next week, Lemon. The nurse, who was assigned to take care of me, is too needy." Liz laughed at Pete's Jack impression. Not hard enough for her to be lizzing, but enough to make someone like Pete proud.

Pete said more Donaghy esque words. "Scotch, ratings, Regan, fighting, suits, dirty hippies." Each earned him a chuckle from Liz. "I can't think of anymore." He didn't want the conversation to end. "How's Floyd?"

"Single," Liz said, a little sad. "It was too far for too short of a relationship."

"So, you thought of it as a relationship?" Pete felt a little bad for pressing, but it's been a while since he and Liz really talked. He missed her.

"It was probably for the best," Liz said, "I would get sick of Cleveland after a while. Then I would resent Floyd and myself, and any children if we had any."

"Weren't you going to adopt?"

"It was a last resort. No one wants some other peoples bastard over their own. That's the gay's job."

Liz yawned. "It's getting late. Do you just want to sleep here?"

"I think I would," Pete said, smiling, "I would very much."

Liz slept in her office, walking like an injured basketball coach. Pete realized he had a once in a lifetime opportunity: he could go in someone else's office! Jenna and Tracy would immediately know he was there, though. Tracy can "smell white" and Jenna could "smell depression".

"There is someone else," Pete said to himself.

He left the writers room, going to the big, almost scary office. There was a selection of alcoholic beverages in a cabinet, a big window, and comfortable seating. Pete laid down on Jacks couch, letting sleep take him away.

He awoke a few hours later, or at least he assumed it was a few hours later. Pete wasn't quite sure, but the sun was coming out slowly but obviously, like Liz's cousin. Standing above him was a familiar man who slightly resembled a Siberian husky (Pete made this comparison long before Justified did!) with an angry expression on his face.

"What the hell are you doing in my office?"

"Oh, Jack," Pete said. He was thinking on his feet now. He had to say something to keep his job. It was a sucky job, but it kept him away from home and hanging out with Liz. "Uh…I wanted to surprise you?"

"With what?" Jack said. "Your back groves on my couch?"

"No, um," Pete was thankful for his improv work back in the day, "I wanted to surprise you. I wanted to be the first person to welcome you back!" A beat went by. "Welcome back."

Jack looked at Pete suspiciously. "I wasn't supposed to come back today," he said, almost to himself. "I told everyone it was next week, as to not have a party." He looked Pete dead in the eye. "My god. Of everyone here, you called my bluff. Well done, Hornburger."

Oh thank you, sweet baby Jesus!

"Would you like a drink?" Jack held up a weird looking whisky. "This one has coffee beans floating inside."

Pete shrugged. "Eh, what the hell? Sure. Not too much."

"There's only such thing as 'too much' if one lacks the power to take more. Do you lack the power, Pete?"

Not wanting to lie again, but slightly confused and wanting to stay on Jack Donaghy's good side, Pete took a shot in the dark. "No?"

"I like you, Pete," Jack said, "a family man with a career goal. Take a sip from the bottle."

Jack's description of Pete was about as wrong as possible, but he took a sip. It tasted exactly like he expected: whisky with coffee grounds. "It's not bad, I guess."

"With the balls to disagree with the boss," Jack took the bottle. "This is crap, Pete. Say it."

"This is crap."

"Of course it is. I give it to any man who dares come in this office without me here. You're the first to pass the test. Now go."

Pete left, hoping today would be a good day.

* * *

Updates are taking too long for my standard. Sorry, guys :( I'll try better next chapter


	4. Chapter 4

Drew has a thing, something one might call weird, he likes to do with his girlfriends. He likes to photograph them as if they were in a men's magazine photo shoot. Many of his exes were used to being naked around cameras, but Liz wasn't.

"Really, my bra can't be on?"

Drew shrugged behind Liz's iPhone. "Not in all of them. Try a sip of wine, you might feel better then."

Next to Liz on her coffee table was a small bottle of not-that-old wine. She could never taste the difference, nor could Drew. Liz was sitting on the couch in a white cotton bra, underwear (Drew found the term "panties" douchy), and socks. "I refuse to take off my socks," she said.

"Whatever you're comfortable with," said Drew, "we can cut out that much."

Liz smiled. "You have one thing right." She took a sip of wine from the bottle. Drew liked that in a sexual way. "Now, can we have some classy bra shots first?"

"Sure," Drew said, "I don't want you uncomfortable." Liz mumbled something. "What was that?"

"Oh, nothing," Liz giggled.

"No, seriously," Drew said, "what was it?"

Still smiling, Liz said, "Oh, just that if you didn't want me uncomfortable, you wouldn't make me take this picture."

"I'm not making you do anything Liz," Drew said, "I'm saying that it's recommended you should do this for the sake of our relationship or we could break up."

Liz rolled her eyes. "Drew, that's pressuring me."

"I'm sorry, Liz, for not knowing words sometimes!" yelled Drew.

"I'm sorry, Drew, for not wanting my boobs photographed by you!" yelled Liz back.

"Does it make a difference whether it's me or not?," Drew asked, a little hurt now. "Would you rather it be a lesbian?"

"That's not it, Drew," Liz was really feeling it now, it seemed, "It's that it's rarely what I want! It's you! It's your mom and sister spoiling you, or your mom and grandma?"

That stung. "I should go now," Drew said.

"Yeah, you should," Liz was unforgiving this evening.

#

A few hours later, Drew was sitting at home watching _MILF Island_. The general show was tasteless and gross, especially while dating a comedy writer, but he had a man crush on the host. He looks like he could be a doctor, unlike Drew himself. He wasn't much of a doctor. He was rarely scheduled, but consistently paid. He never questioned the system, mostly because it left him time to have a life. A life, which Liz was a part of.

He was a dick. This was established. A world class ass. A sex loving jerk, who almost settles down on a consistent basis. He was a douche who realized his own douchiness: a meta-douche. Drew giggled, "A meta-douche" sounded like "I met a douche".

Damn it! He couldn't even be deep or angst filled. He was a fan fiction writers nightmare and a meta-douche/I met a douche.

On commercial, Drew got a text. It was from Liz. It read _I have a surprise for you. _Liz talked the same as she texted: boring!

_Are you alone_, Liz asked.

Drew looked around. No other people in his apartment. _Yes_, he responded.

That's when he got it. A picture. Full nudity, stopping at the knees. She was standing straight, with wide eyes and her lower lip up. She had thick eyeliner, making her brown eyes look brighter, even. Her hair was in two high ponytails. Her breasts were facing the same way.

Like Liz, Drew needed a sock. Pronto. He thought it would be sexy to text that to Liz. He was wrong and he regretted it immediately.

_Why don't you come back over instead_? Liz said.

#

Drew came over. They banged and apologized.

"Liz, I'm sorry I pressured you into taking your clothes off for me," Drew said, post coital.

"I'm sorry, too, Drew," Liz said, "I shouldn't have brought up your mother. It's too new."

"It's ok, Liz," said Drew, "I need to come to terms with it. It makes sense; she always went with me on my first day of school. She taught me how to drive. She's done a lot."

"At least she wasn't absent," Liz said. "I care about you."

"I care about you, too," said Drew.

All was happy in Drew's perfect world once again. For now.

#

A few months later, Drew and Liz broke up. This was expected. They were both "failboats" at maintaining stable relationships. Liz was back doing her thing, maybe sleeping with her boss? Who really cares. Drew was doing his own thing: seducing nurses in the closets where he worked. This current one was young and pale with curly brown hair. Twentysomething Liz? Maybe, but she did NOT mind the pictures one bit.

"I _am_ getting paid for these, right?" she asked

"Yeah, sure. Whatever you want." Drew wasn't trying to be mean, but he missed Liz. Now that he knew of this bubble, he could abuse it as he pleased.

They took the pictures, Drew admitted to lying, and she didn't care. All was still right in Drew's world.

* * *

I'm almost required to write about Drew, being born and raised in St. Louis like Jon Hamm. Not many cool people are from here, but I digress.

It was a little hard to write as him. I couldn't think of a good plot, except a prequel to the one where Liz is blackmailed with the adult picture. What a shame Drew didn't want her driving a car in said photo.

Also, I needed to establish that it's at least semi normal to be attracted to Rob Huebel, AKA the MILF Island host. The doctor thing was because he's also on Childrens Hospital.


	5. Chapter 5

Carol was on his usual flight rounds. He was excited to get to New York after so long since seeing his girlfriend, Liz. He convinced his boss to let him stay in New York, then fly to see his family for Christmas.

That was a little while away, however. For now, he was in Newark. Or rather, above Newark, making a descent. It was difficult, making Carol a little nervous as always. He already had people complain about TGS- Liz's awesome show and a favorite of Carol's- without forcing them out, he could manage a simple landing.

#

He always liked Newark's airport. It always had a feeling of warmth to him somehow. Perhaps it was the familiarity. His grandparents (his mothers parents) lived in Newark for a little while, and Carol's family consistently visited them. On one trip when he was seven or eight, his family's flight was delayed for rain back home or something (it was too long ago). His mom and grandmother had just been in a fight and his mother was too stubborn to go back, so they stayed at the gate.

Carols parents and siblings were sleeping, letting him walk around the airport unattended. He bought a soda and kept walking. A door with a gold plaque was half open in front of him. Being the curious youngster he was, Carol walked in.

This was the pilots club. Three pilots were sitting around, drinking and giggling. They were acting like people who were friends on TV! Carol was so in awe of them, he decided he wanted to be a pilot. He didn't think he could be more sure of his decision, until this monolog came up from one of the pilots:

"You see, men, we're not just flying, we're transporting. We're taking people to a new city, state, or even country. We're helping the travelers of the world do what they do. We're connecting families, friends. We're like St. Peter. We're the gatekeepers of the sky."

"Not to mention how big of a panty melter it is," cheered another pilot."

"To Pan-Am," toasted the third pilot, "it'll never go out of business."

"Here here," the three cheered.

"Here here," Carol whispered, still staring in awe of those men.

After that, Carol expressed his wishes to be a pilot. He received a "genuine" aviators uniform, which was basically a jacket and some sunglasses, for his birthday. He made model airplanes to learn about aerodynamics. He ate well, mostly because he's never seen a fat pilot. He was totally to his goal.

#

While in his flashback, Carol realized he landed the plane without realizing it. He told the passengers the information given to him (44 degrees, cloudy with low chance of precipitation, sale on frozen pizzas at Walmart, stripper at ST Double D's had her third child today) as they exited the aircraft. Carol waited until everyone was off, taping his fingers on the dashboard and wondering what he wanted to do while he was in town.

His decision came to him as soon as he stepped out of the plane. Standing at the terminal holding three hotdogs was a brunette woman with a flannel shirt and hoodie combination. She was way too familiar.

"Liz," Carol ran to hug her, "oh my god, what are you doing here?"

"TGS is on break," Liz said, "or at least, that's what Jack told me. I want to do something, follow me"

#

Fifteen minutes later, Carol and Liz were sitting in Liz's rental car, listening to "Road to Nowhere" by Talking Heads. "Seriously, though," Carol asked, "where the hell are we going?"

"I can't be adventurous sometimes?" Liz mocked offense. She rolled her eyes, like the wifes do in lame TV sitcoms, "if you must know, we're going to Famous Restaurant. I have been wanting to see how famous it really is."

"The one on Washington Street?" Carol asked.

"The very same," Liz smiled.

"I never went there, but you're going the wrong way."

#

The food was pretty good, not that either Liz or Carol had refined palates, but the service kind of sucked. It reminded Carol a little of Shenanigans from _Waiting… _in a way. He told Liz that, and she agreed. "Especially with that table that didn't speak English."

Carol nodded, even though that wasn't what he meant. He changed the subject. "Do you have somewhere to stay tonight? It's getting dark." It wasn't really getting dark, even, it was dark.

Liz thought for a minute. "Blurg!"

"Did you forget?" Carol asked.

"Yeah," she said, "but I have an excuse. Jenna distracted me."

"Does Jenna distract you a lot?" Carol said more as a statement than a question.

"Oh my gosh yes!" Liz said. "I mean, I love her, but she's a handful."

"When you love someone, they're always a handful," Carol said in a vague attempt of being poignant. "You can stay with me."

"Do we have to have sex?" Liz asked, "because I'm kind of tired."

"We don't have to do anything you don't want to," Carol said, and he pecked her on the cheek.

They spent the evening quietly watching TV together until around 1am, where Liz said, "I changed my mind about having sex," Liz said. So they banged under the blue glow of the TV.

#

After the fun of having sex to the sounds of Nick at Nite, Liz fell asleep. Carol tried to, but the adventures of those crazy people on the dated sitcoms kept him up. He received a call from his boss. Carol let it ring so it wouldn't wake Liz. After a while, Carol checked the voicemail to see who was calling.

The message was from his boss. It said, "Carol! It's me! You have to fly at 3:30. Dead serious! You're going to Boston. Bye."

Carol was conflicted. He didn't want to leave Liz, but he didn't want to defy his boss. The most logical solution was to wake Liz and have her fly to Boston with him.

This ended up pleasing both parties, because Liz and Carol's boss didn't care. Plus, it made Carol look big and important in the eyes of Liz and loving in the eyes of his boss.

* * *

Yes, I skipped Wesley. I never liked him that much.

Road to Nowhere is an awesome song if you ever hear it. It's in the trailer for _Seeking a Friend for the End of the World_. Long title, I think.

I'm starting to think I'm not as hopeless as I thought at writing.


	6. Chapter 6

"I didn't ask for this," Jack said to the priest behind the confession. He was trying to make his voice higher, more like Kenneth's, as to disguise his identity.

"It wasn't your fault," the priest said, "I think it more has to do with the closeness, to be around someone who's helped you so much and cleared your head. God still loves you, but what's the big deal?"

"The big deal is she plans to marry another man. One that's not me, and thinks like her." It felt good to say it out loud. "I hate what came between us. I miss back in the day, when she was only mine. Yes, we had our separate loves and trials, but at the end of the day, it was only her."

"I don't think you need penance," said the priest, "I think you just really wanted someone to talk to. Get a psychiatrist or something. Goodness gracious you need help." As Jack left, he heard the priest say, "This is for hookers and kids that learn what an orgasm is. Heavenly heavens." There was likely an eye roll.

#

Outside the church, Liz was leaning against the steps, holding a hot dog with a bag of Combo's peeping out of her bag. "So, did the priest send you to eternal damnation because of your divorce?"

"Actually, no, Lemon," Jack said, enjoying the feeling of superiority that could boom in his voice again.

"Really?" she was surprised. "Isn't adultery a big sin? Like, the ten commandments or something? In fact, I know it is." She deepened her voice for comic effect. "Oh, I'm God. Only sleep with your spouse, don't kiss their mother, don't go for your recently divorced high school sweetheart in bed, don't send Morse code messages as makeshift sexting." Jack laughed a little, despite himself. He tried to look powerful on streets.

"Want to get Liddy from the nursery with me?" Jack asked. "She can say Dada now, and invented her own language!"

"Are you sure that's not gibberish?" Liz asked.

"Don't patronize my daughter, Lemon," Jack said. And off they went

#

Liz held Liddy at her side as Jack chatted up the babysitter. "How was she today?"

"Oh, she was incredibly sweet," she said with her Minnesota accent. "She and Tasheena made this big block building together."

"Which one is Tasheena?" Jack asked. He looked at a black, slightly older baby, toddling around. "Her?"

"No, silly," the sitter said, "didn't you pay attention at the baby initiation ceremony?"

He hadn't. They could barely hold their heads up, much less introduce themselves. Why does he have to sit through a bunch of babies personal hell, excluding Liddy, of course? If anything, he helped them.

"Thatone is Tasheena," she addressed a very pale baby, drooling on a block with a dull look in her eye. It was very familiar some how, but it didn't take him long to figure out where Jack had seen it.

Jack hastily said goodbye to the babysitter and showered Liddy with pride. "Who learned how to lead her subordinates? You did. You did."

"What the what are you talking about, Jack?" Liz asked.

"She lead a baby Lutz today. Like a champ. Like Regan."

Liz perked up. "Ooh! Do we get Jelly Belly's now?"

Jack took a baby bottle full of the red kinds out. "What did you think I was going to do with these? My girl is a sippy cup girl now."

"I want to go to there."

#

Back home, Jack showed Liz her favorite picture of him and Liddy. They were both in their favorite suits, his black silk, hers pink.

"Aw, she looks so adorable," Liz said, "I mean powerful." She awkwardly saluted Liddy, who was in her choice cotton two pieces, asleep in her crib.

"Lemon, she's a baby. You don't need to salute her while she sleeps. Do it while she's awake, so she learns." Liz nodded, pitifully.

"Let's step out, give her some rest," Jack suggested. "I got some aged whiskey, if you're interested."

"Why wouldn't I be? I'm an adult. I can party," Liz made a weird neck movement in an attempt to seem cool.

"The fact that you do that shows that you, in fact, can not party," Jack poured her a glass and himself a slightly fuller glass. "To friendship?" Jack offered.

"I'll take that with cheese," Liz clinked her glass against him. She shuttered at the taste, but Jack liked his own.

"Do you like this?" Liz almost gasped.

"Do you not like it?" Jack said, feigning surprise and chugging his glass and hers, then refilling both. That was the last thing he remembered.

#

Jack woke up on the floor of his living room, not far away from his drink cabinet. "What happened?" he asked himself, feeling a hangover hit. He tried to turn over to the couch, hearing…giggling? Male giggling? In his house? What was this malarkey?

"You're such a silly baby," said a familiar voice, but babyfied. "Wait, no, you're a big girl." Jack could vaguely make out bells, like one of Liddy's toys.

The familiar sound of lesbian Frankenstein shoes came into site. "Thanks again for helping, Criss."

That's who it was.

"No problemo," Criss said, "it wasn't too hard, and it's practice for our own child."

"Or a plant," Liz said, her commitment issues showing.

"Or both," Criss suggested.

"That's the smartest idea," Liz probably smiled. "Do you think he's still out?"

"Not as much," Criss said, likely referring to Jack, "I heard him mumble something, but he hasn't moved."

Liz plopped on the couch, where Criss and Liddy presumably were. "Oh god, I'm surrounded by people like Jack."

"Republicans?"

"No," Liz said. "Imperfect, I guess, is the word. You're the best I got."

"Which is…?"

"Good. Great, even. Because Jack can solve my problems, but he makes some big mistakes, too. Yours are rather minor. I don't have to worry."

"I'm here for you," Criss said.

Jack felt guilty for failing Liz. Yes, they probably won't be life partners (gross!), but they're important people together. And he felt bad asking after hearing what Liz told Criss, but he needed it.

"Could someone help me up?"

* * *

This is the end. I didn't realize it was the end for a while, but then I realized I reached the point.

I had this as the ending, except reversed, where Criss gets drunk and in trouble in another way and Jack helps Liz. Then I saw how most stories were Liz/Jack. I wanted to mix it up.

This took forever, with the rewrites.


End file.
